


Never Have I Ever Bravely Fought Off a Robot Army

by crystalkei



Series: Never Have I Ever Actually Fallen In Love [2]
Category: Never Have I Ever (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, F/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:33:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24418933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crystalkei/pseuds/crystalkei
Summary: When the frisbees started flying due to a programming glitch, most of the nerds ran. Devi, needing to repair relationships and put in extra work for the fuck ups of recent, ran into the frisbee fire to help Fabiola.
Relationships: Eve (Never Have I Ever)/Fabiola Torres, Paxton Hall-Yoshida/Devi Vishwakumar
Series: Never Have I Ever Actually Fallen In Love [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1761826
Comments: 19
Kudos: 103





	Never Have I Ever Bravely Fought Off a Robot Army

John McEnroe here again, we’re about to drop into what might be considered a strange situation for high schoolers to be in so I figured I better start with some context. Fabiola’s robot, Gears Brosnan, was her pride and joy. She didn’t feel particularly nurturing, but building Gears had been a labor of love in the sense of well, all the parts and stuff. You know, soldering and programming, getting his eyes just right. Fabiola was proud. The robotics team had since created a few more, simple robots. They were programmed to be frisbee throwing robots for a competition and they didn't have the personality of Gears Brosnan. They were square little metal boxes with an arm programmed to do one thing, throw frisbees. Not the big kind that you’d see people tossing for golden retrievers at the park, more like the little ones that you would get in a kids’ treat bag at a birthday party. 

So now that you have context, we’re gonna drop into room 214 of Sherman Oaks High which, despite having a two at the beginning was located on the first floor. The robotics team was not made up of what you’d call athletic types like Paxton H-Y or me. They were straight nerds. Well, not all of them were straight, but you know what I mean. When the frisbees started flying due to a programming glitch, most of the nerds ran. Devi, needing to repair relationships and put in extra work for the fuck ups of recent, ran into the frisbee fire to help Fabiola. 

“How do we turn them off, Fab?” Devi shouted, using a textbook as a shield from atop the table, Fabiola at her back. 

“We have to get to the iPad!” Fabiola swung at another frisbee with her yardstick, but she missed and then grabbed her arm where the frisbee hit. “Damn, that hurts! We need to adjust the velocity because we will not win the competition like this!” 

“Where’s the iPad?”    
  
“It got knocked behind the bookshelf.” Fabiola pointed to the bookshelf clear on the other side of the room. “Do you think the accuracy is good? I feel like the accuracy of the arms is holding.”    
  
“Don’t really care, because I’m being pelted by Chuck E. Cheese frisbees from four, small cable boxes, Fab!” 

“What the hell?” The door of the classroom was open and Paxton Hall-Yoshida was very confused by what he’d just walked in on. 

“Get out of here, it’s not safe!” Devi shouted from her spot on top of the table. 

Despite her suggestion, Paxton walked into the classroom and was swiftly pelted with a frisbee, right to his eye. He dropped his gym bag and shouted, while grabbing his eye. Devi jumped off the table, using the science textbook like she was Captain frickin’ America, and stopped in front of Paxton, shielding him from further hits. 

“What’s going on?” he asked again, agitated. 

“Minor malfunction in the programming of our competition robots,” Fabiola shouted. 

“Minor?” He made a face at Devi and she shrugged before moving the textbook to block three consecutive frisbees. 

“I’m coming up with a plan, just let me think!” Fabiola added, batting another frisbee away. 

Gears Brosnan had been on the table closest to the door the whole time and at the sound of Fabiola’s shouting, he started turning circles and flapping his robotic arms. One of them caught on Devi’s skirt. 

“Hey man, consent!” Paxton shouted at the spinning robot. “Fabiola, your googly eyed robot is trying to touch Devi’s butt!”

“I’m fine!” Devi smoothed her skirt down before grabbing Paxton’s hand, dragging him to the table, climbing back on top of it. 

McEnroe: So now we’ve got Fabiola, Devi, and Paxton standing on top of a table in classroom 214, dodging tiny frisbees. How is this better? Is the Terminator coming to help or make it worse? Who is gonna save these kids?

Enter Eve. 

“Fabiola, where is the iPad?” Eve asked, or grunted, from where she was army crawling on the floor to avoid the frisbees. 

“Behind the shelf!” Fabiola and Devi said in unison. 

“Why’s she crawling? We could be on the floor crawling and avoiding the frisbees?” Paxton was distressed. 

“No, stay up here,” Devi demanded. 

“This is dumb! Who even programmed these droids?” Paxton grabbed the top of Devi’s textbook to guide her to block another frisbee. 

Just as he asked, Eve reached her arm behind the shelf. Her face was screwed up as she worked to reach the iPad, just a little further and… “Got it!” 

“Great, hit the reset button, it’s at the top!” 

Suddenly, the mechanical arms stopped, the room was quiet, and the frisbees that littered the floor were the only evidence that something strange had happened. Fabiola tossed her yardstick and jumped from the table they were on to the next and the next before jumping down to hug Eve. 

“My hero!” she exclaimed.

Devi dropped the textbook and clapped. 

“Did you get hit, that science book isn’t actually a shield,” Paxton asked, causing Devi to turn to him. They were still standing on the table, and he looked out of breath. She reached for his face. 

“Your eye, are you alright? Oh no, your money maker!” 

He scoffed, but smiled. “I’m fine. It’s not bruised is it?”

Devi ran her thumb along the bottom of his eye, his eyes closing at the touch. “I think you’ll be okay.” 

“Thanks.” Paxton took her hand in his and then turned her hand over to inspect her arms. “Looks like maybe a bruise or two but overall pretty impressive considering the onslaught.” 

“Yeah, somebody should leave a review for Party City letting them know those frisbees are dangerous at high speeds.” Devi looked back over at Fabiola and Eve. They were still being adorable and mushy so she directed her attention at getting off the table. 

“How did you even end up in here?” Paxton asked as he used a chair to step off the table, then offered her his hand to help her down the same way. “Recently take up robotics?”

Devi shook her head. “I don’t know if you noticed but I’ve been kind of a shit friend lately so when I heard Fab screaming from the hall, I rushed in and was uhhhh caught up in this.” She gestured to the room. “I had to help. You know, mending relationships and stuff.” 

Paxton nodded and smiled before looking away to see the destruction. 

“Can’t believe I was just assaulted by the hot plate from a Tasty video.” Then he met Gears’ Brosnan’s eyes. “Dude, that guy touched your ass!” 

“It’s a robot, Paxton.” 

“Yeah, and he should know better than to touch people without asking!” 

“Are you defending my honor from a robot?” Devi asked, tilting her head, amused. 

“I’m just saying. There seem to be a lot of technical difficulties in this robot club and BB-8 needs to watch it.” 

McEnroe: They spent the next hour collecting frisbees so that the robotics team could reload them in the morning for the competition. Devi asked if they could turn one on and get it throwing again for her Instagram stories but everyone vetoed the idea so Devi had to settle for a video of Fabiola carrying a stack of 15 frisbees that she managed to balance on her hand before they fell again. It would be spoken of in hushed tones over the next three years of robotics competitions, the Minor Robot Rebellion of Sherman Oaks High.


End file.
